


What Isn't and Can Never Be

by crossroad_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Djinnverse (Supernatural), M/M, Sorry?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:37:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroad_angel/pseuds/crossroad_angel
Summary: When Dean Winchester is forced to live within his deepest fantasy he knows that he's fallen harder than he was ever prepared for. The only problem is he doesn't exactly know who he's fallen for.





	

It was a simple hunt that followed the same pattern as any other one. Find the thing, gank it, get out. 

"Dean." Dean's phone hissed at him. He jumped a little and raised it back up to his ear. He'd almost forgotten that Sam had called him.

"What?"

"I think we're dealing with a djinn."

"You think that we're hunting a genie?"

"I'm pretty sure of it actually."

"Hey." Dean smirked. "Do you think I'll get a wish if I catch it?"

There was a few moments of silence on the other end of the line before Sam answered. "It's not a leprechaun, Dean."

"Worth a shot." Dean shrugged. 

Before he could register what was happening his back collided with the dirty wall, the phone dropped out of his hand and all he could see was blue.

-

Everything around Dean was soft and warm. Was he dead? When he opened his eyes he was surrounded by almost complete darkness.

Dean sat up, his eyes adjusting to the lighting in the room. He was in a normal bedroom- the normal part was what worried him- and a comfortable bed. It was as he was climbing out of the bed that he noticed the extra body. The man in the bed looked peaceful, even with shadows cast over his face. A small smile tugged at Dean's lips as he watched the handsome man sleep but quickly left the room when he realised how creepy he was being.

Dean looked around the living room that he'd just entered. There were pictures on the top of the bookshelf, comfortable looking couches adorned with throw pillows facing a TV, and an adjoining kitchen with a working fridge. How did he get here? His first instinct was to reach for his phone and dial Sam's number. 

"Come on..." Dean was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Sam to pick up.

Eventually the ringing stopped and was replaced by a tired sounding "Hello?"

"Sam," Dean kept his voice low, not wanting to wake whoever was in the next room, "I woke up in a bed with some guy and I think he might be naked."

"I sure hope you mean Cas," Sam muttered.

"Who the hell is Cas?"

"Are you drunk?" Sam didn't sound amused whatsoever. "Castiel. Your boyfriend." Sam spoke slowly and Dean rolled his eyes. 

"But I'm straight."

"Go to bed, Dean. Sleep off whatever you've been drinking."

"I'm not drunk," Dean said but Sam had already hung up. Dean sighed and put the phone back on the coffee table and walked over to the bookcase in the corner of the room, picking up the framed photo that sat in the centre of it. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he studied the photo. He was on the centre of the frame, smiling widely. He had one arm around, who he guessed was, Cas and the other around his mom? But that was impossible, she was dead. Yet there she was. Smiling at the camera, each of her sons on either side of her and John behind her, arms around her waist and chin resting on top of her head. They looked happy.

Dean could feel himself choke up and had to blink back the tears forming in his eyes. 'This isn't real,' he reminded himself. 'It can't be.' 

There was no point in saying that part of him didn't wish it was true. That would be a lie. But this was all impossible, right?

"Dean?" A tired and gravelly voice stole Dean from his thoughts. Dean turned his head towards the bedroom door and found a half-asleep and half-dressed Castiel standing in the doorway. "It's 3am. What are you doing?"

"I...uh..." He placed the picture back down. The light from the bedroom spilled out around Castiel, making him look like some ethereal being that Dean couldn't touch because he didn't even belong on the same plane of existence as him. "Couldn't sleep," he said, deciding that it was the best excuse.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked, tilting his head. "You look rather pale." He walked towards Dean and placed a hand against his forehead.

"What are you-"

"You don't seem to be burning up," Cas said, moving his hand down to cup Dean's cheek. "Do you want water?"

"Honestly, I think a beer would be better right now."

Cas chuckled. "Of course you'd think so." There was an affection behind his smile that Dean couldn't return. He felt guilty about it but he couldn't help it if he didn't know Cas the way Cas seemed to know him. Besides, he was straight. When Dean moved away from Cas' touch his smile faltered slightly and he pulled his hand away. "Do you want pie too."

Dean immediately perked up at the mention of pie. "We have pie?"

"You were the one that bought it," Cas said, heading to the kitchen and flicking on a light. While he was walking Dean's gaze lowered to Castiel's tight boxers and-

Straight. He reminded himself. You're straight. 

Dean shook his head and approached the coumter that seperated the sitting room from the kitchen and leaned across it. He'd been in the house for less than an hour but it already felt more like home than any dirty motel could. "So," he asked, "we live here?"

"We've lived here for the past year." He placed a bottle of beer in front of Dean which was soon followed by a slice of pecan pie. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"Perfectly okay." Dean smiled reassuringly before proceeding to shovel the pie into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in so long.

Cas leaned against the opposite counter and watched the man he had been in love with for two years with a tilted head before leaning forward, letting his lips brush over Dean's cheek and whispered "If you need any more help getting to sleep, you know where to find me." And with that, he headed back to the bedroom.

Dean sat wide eyed for a moment. "Not straight," The voice in his head commented. "Definitely not straight."


End file.
